


Like Breathing Water

by ShatterTheNexus



Series: There's No Post on Sundays! [10]
Category: PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2020-07-27 19:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20051485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterTheNexus/pseuds/ShatterTheNexus
Summary: It was like breathing water. Impossible yet inconceivably necessary. A slow burn. An illusion of peace and calm. To give up control and be lost by will, swept away in the waves of demands and expectations. To be defined, to be marked with a value. For the new regime was upon them. To live in the new world she must breathe water, lest she drown.





	Like Breathing Water

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning. I am experimenting the limits to which I can place idols in an existing AU by using canon and characters from the Harry Potter series. That is Rowling’s content; I lay no claim over it. As this is fan fiction, I am taking liberties by bending the events or fabricating backstories. If this level of integration is not up your Knockturn Alley, feel free to pass. Please note that darker themes present in the series are followed through here as well.

“A pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. I’ve much enjoyed our correspondence and believe this arrangement will see itself to fruition.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m grateful for your reception of my family. Needless to say, there is hardly a better bloodline to ally with.”

The man raised an eyebrow surreptitiously with a small smirk. His white hair was sleek and straight like a regal cape, draped over his shoulders with dignity. “Quite direct, aren’t we?”

“I see no reason to hide it. I’ve long since concluded our ideals align. A shame we couldn’t have met sooner under a great unifying force.”

There was a drawling chuckle. “Well, there may be another who will rise to the occasion yet. Time will tell.” He tapped his polished ebony cane on the tiled floor, summoning a boy bearing a striking resemblance. “Allow me to introduce my son, Draco.”

With a crooked smile, her father nudged her forward. A stern squeeze of the shoulder served as a reminder to stand tall and proud. Show no weakness. “May I present my daughter, Jieqiong.”

~|~|~|~

“Are you a Pureblood?”

Jieqiong nodded slowly. In her experience, this only mattered for one reason.

“Why did you come here? Isn’t there a school in your country?”

She stared down at her trunk, unsure of how to answer. She had a master, and colleagues learning magic just as she did. But it wasn’t a school by the likes of Hogwarts.

“You weren’t here last year. How come you’re assigned to our dormitory?”

How was she supposed to know? She wasn’t in charge of housing. She didn’t ask questions so long as she had a bed to sleep in. Though irked by the accusatory tone, she held her tongue. The other girl grew impatient at Jieqiong’s lack of response.

“Did you learn English over there? You haven’t spoken but you understand me. So you must know English. Why would you need to anyway? Don’t you just speak your own language?”

Jieqiong didn’t see the relevance of this. Her own irritation was bubbling up. The girl hadn’t stopped prying since she entered the room.

There were hushed whispers and a gasp of excitement, then the girl spoke with relish. “I heard your parents moved on a business deal. What do they do? Do they work for your Ministry? They must be important if they know the Malfoys.” The girl’s smirk twisted into a scowl. “But I never even heard of you so how important could you really be? If you’re tricking them, you’ll pay.”

“That’s enough, Parkinson.”

Pansy clicked her tongue. “Look who finally has a voice. Care to join in on the conversation? It’s absolutely _riveting_. She talks just as much as you,” she said distastefully.

“I’m not interested, which is why I’d like you to be quiet.”

“Who are you to tell us to shut up?” Another Second-Year, Daphne Greengrass, retorted.

“Absolutely nobody. A nobody who’d like some peace after a year of your incessant jabbering. If you want to gossip, clear out. Your presence is giving me a headache.”

“You don’t even live here!”

“And yet I still have a migraine. Getting the hint?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “I’m charged with settling her in. Don’t like it? Take it up with Professor Snape.”

Affronted by the girl’s unbothered expression and stern tone without even a glance in their direction, Pansy led her chittering squad towards the common room. “Fine, be losers together,” she sneered as the door slammed shut.

An insufferable silence followed. Jieqiong slowly reached into her trunk, organizing her robes and textbooks with as little noise as possible. She listened intently, afraid of disturbing the only other person in the room. She heard the rapid scribbling of a quill on crisp parchment, then the _chink_ of an ink bottle. Jieqiong examined a small vase absentmindedly and leaned to place it on her nightstand. She debated whether to turn around, but decided against it as she imagined an angsty preteen at her wit’s end glowering back.

A hand slid over her shoulder and she leapt up in shock. There was a loud rip of fabric and a clatter of broken pottery. She stood with her back against the stone wall, her wand poised.

“I was going to ask if you’re okay,” said the other, unfazed by the wood pressed to her throat.

Jieqiong lowered her wand, slightly abashed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. And don’t mind her. She’s nosy, arrogant, and ignorant. The lot of them are.”

“That’s… not the safest thing to say.” Jieqiong glanced at the door tentatively.

The taller girl shrugged. “She can’t do anything to me. You on the other hand let caution overwhelm your acting. You need to do better than that to fool the Slytherins.”

“The Slytherins?” Jieqiong repeated. “You speak as if we aren’t.”

The other girl took in all of Jieqiong, inch by inch, interpreting every micro-expression and muscle contraction. All her life Jieqiong had been gawked at like treasure, or scrutinized for her abilities. She had hardened herself with discipline, taught to exert sophistication and power at all times, to be proud. Yet oddly enough, she felt no pressure in the girl’s presence.

“We are Slytherins,” the girl said slowly. Then she smiled, a controlled twitch of her lip. “But you and I, we’re nothing like them.”

The simple declaration rang in Jieqiong’s ears. Them. Not merely Pansy and her giggling gang. But _them_. Those trying to mold her, who judge her worth and rank her. Those who train her for a grand purpose in life, a purpose that wasn’t hers to begin with.

When she heard herself speak, her eyes widened slightly at the blandness, the absolute lack of intonation. “That isn’t safe to say at all, what more to imply.”

“You wouldn’t be warning me if you didn’t believe it was safe to do so.”

Jieqiong tilted her head in curiosity. Her head buzzed with adrenaline. It wasn’t a thrill of recklessness and invincibility, nor of fear and trepidation. It was the kind of anticipation that came with a fresh start. A newly forged chapter from old rotten beginnings.

“Who are you?” Jieqiong asked.

The girl’s eyes shifted from Jieqiong to the torn bed hangings, then down at a handful of jade stones scattered among porcelain shards. With a wave of her wand and an incantation muttered under her breath, the curtains sewed themselves in place and the jug sealed its cracks. The girl poured the stones into the small vase and offered it to Jieqiong.

“Nayoung Im.”

~|~|~|~

It didn’t take Jieqiong long to recognize the polarity of Hogwarts students. There were Slytherins, her own house, snickering at everyone with their noses turned up, prideful and sly. There were haughty Gryffindors, boasting of nobility and valor, discrediting those in emerald and silver at every opportunity. Then there were the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, minding their own business but undoubtedly siding with the lions when questioned.

She observed the Great Hall. All four houses were biding their time with hidden hostility. They were oblivious, but she could detect unrest in the air. The slightest provocation would have them pointing fingers at each other’s necks.

“Keep your head down.”

Jieqiong’s eyes flitted across the table. Nayoung was spreading jam on a bit of toast with a bored expression. “Is that an order?”

“It’s a suggestion, one you should take. You have a lot to learn. Start by not ogling at everyone.”

“The smart observe,” said Jieqiong.

“And the wise infer,” countered Nayoung seriously. Her voice was barely audible above the din of conversation. “A second facing the wrong direction is two seconds too long. Image is your saving grace. Play your part right and you live.”

“Seems a bit dramatic.” Jieqiong froze when Nayoung’s eyes locked onto hers.

“You know as well as I do just how _dramatic_ the world can be.”

Something deeply primal shocked Jieqiong to the core. She knew of the costs, glorified and sickening, but never claimed to experience them firsthand. She hoped she never would. Nayoung understood they had been raised in preparation for such a world once again; a world they had no memory of, but were expected to lead in. It was revolting to accept and terrifying to refute. There were repercussions. Jieqiong didn’t want to find out what they were.

~|~|~|~

“‘Enemies of the heir beware. You’ll be next Mudbloods,’ he said! The look on Potter’s face!”

“But did you see Granger? She knows what’s coming for her.”

The students howled with laughter in the common room, spreading the message about the Chamber of Secrets to peers who were lost in the crowds. They all cringed when the Gryffindor girl was mentioned. They stuck their tongues out and retched on air.

“Mudbloods.”

“Surely you’re familiar with that concept,” whispered Nayoung. She commanded a black bishop to take a white rook. The glass windows reflected the kindling fire under the mantle. The glowing green light from the Great Lake danced eerily over their secluded corner.

Jieqiong gave her a meaningful look and prodded a white knight. It chased Nayoung’s bishop off the board. She swallowed thickly and explained with a poker face. “Translated, it’s something of an imposter mixed with a rat whose purpose is to breed an infestation.”

Nayoung nodded in understanding. To any onlooker from behind, it would pass as nonchalant approval. To Jieqiong, the prominent bulge from her clenched jaw expressed otherwise. “And half-bloods?” She asked casually.

“Where I’m from, the most similar term is a mutt.”

For a few minutes, the only sounds were those of the wooden chess pieces scrambling off the board and clashing toothpick-sized swords with the enemy. A few students entered from the Dungeons and joined the boisterous group by the fireplace. The two boys studying near Jieqiong and Nayoung packed up their books to head to the quiet dormitories.

“And you?”

Jieqiong paused mid-command. Her pawn scooted closer to the next square and tripped. She helped it up and noticed they were alone. “What about me?”

Nayoung crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. Her gaze was soft yet inquisitive. “What do you call Muggle-borns and half-bloods?”

The words rolled off her tongue like silken water without reservation. “I call them people.”

~|~|~|~

“Your skills are advanced considering Lockhart was your first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Nayoung commented as her friend shot a rock at the castle wall. 

Jieqiong shrugged halfheartedly. “Regions back home are very competitive. That’s not lost on wizards. Masters accept a handful of apprentices from as young as five years old. You learn and live by their teachings. The one trait common across the nation is the need for power and success. First place is the only place. Abilities are driven by necessity, by a constant desire to prove yourself. Ironically, the powerful are vulnerable.” She clicked her tongue. “What’s a life lived in fear of falling?”

Nayoung hummed, impressed yet pitying. “You began honing your magic long before students here do. And your master, how was…” Nayoung trailed off, unwilling to pry too much.

“Conservative family. Such wizards don’t stray far from likeminded masters. It’s their form of a legacy. Pureblood in flesh and mind, among kin and colleagues.”

“So how did you come to believe anything different than the world you grew up in?” Nayoung asked. She faced Jieqiong and backed up ten paces. She raised her wand and threw her dominant arm forward. “Stupefy!”

“Flipendo!” The elementary jinx collided with the weak stunner. Jieqiong shot a satisfied smirk at Nayoung, then her face fell as she considered her answer. “It felt wrong.”

Nayoung straightened up, her arm falling limp at her side. “Adopting the mentality?”

“Witnessing it,” said Jieqiong. “When I was little, a girl saw me levitating stones. I was trying to build a pyramid above the river’s surface.”

“Did she tell anyone?”

Jieqiong laughed wistfully and shook her head. She stared at Nayoung, though her eyes were lost in memories. “She levitated them with me. We took turns placing stones on top while the other steadied the floating pile. She was…”

“Not like us?” Nayoung suggested.

“She was more like _us_ than anyone we’re related to.”

Nayoung understood from Jieqiong’s bitter tone. For what was the physical form when it is ideas, attitudes, and culture that permeate the stronghold that is the mind?

“When my father heard she was hiding her abilities from her parents, it was clear they were Muggles. She told us excitedly the exact moment she discovered she could do magic and how she controlled it. That’s all he needed.”

“Needed for what?”

Jieqiong sighed heavily. “To make her forget. Without hesitation, he called her a disgrace and erased that memory. Anything rooted to it crumbled into fantasy or lunacy, her being so young. I saw her again a week later. She called me crazy for wanting to stack stones on water. Then she called me crazy again. And again. And again.” Jieqiong shook her head, horrified. “She wouldn’t stop. I don’t know if she ever did.”

With a lazy flick of her wrist, Jieqiong disarmed Nayoung effortlessly. Nayoung trudged through the overgrown grass to retrieve her wand. She took a moment to rest on the ground. Jieqiong pulled her cloak tighter and sat beside her.

“You lived among Slytherin legacies for years. How come you don’t agree with them?”

Nayoung shrugged. “It felt wrong.” Jieqiong snorted and nudged her in the ribs. “I did believe them for a time, but it always felt wrong. Then I met someone and it suddenly felt right.”

Jieqiong savored the moment, for Nayoung’s smiles were a rare sight. Genuine, pure, and precious. Nothing like the mask she wore at all hours. Nayoung leaned her head back, Jieqiong supposed to enjoy the calming breeze of late fall. She realized she was wrong after following Nayoung’s line of sight. Jieqiong wondered if Nayoung always looked at Ravenclaw Tower with such reverence. Lost in curiosity, she hadn’t noticed the retreating sunlight until Nayoung spoke.

“Come on. We’re not allowed out on the Grounds past seven with Sirius Black at large.”

~|~|~|~

“Who’s there?”

Jieqiong clamped a hand over her mouth and flattened herself against the wall.

The outline of the tapestry shielding her was suddenly illuminated from left to right. “Students out of bed will be reported,” warned the prefect.

A minute passed in silence. The prefect sighed and resumed his patrol. Seeing the coast was clear, Jieqiong scampered in the opposite direction and up a flight of stairs. A bead of sweat trickling down her temple reminded her how much she loathed the trek up to the Astronomy Tower. She mentally berated herself as she huffed with her hands on her knees.

_“I told you to work on your star charts over the weekend. It won’t matter that you’re just retrieving your telescope. If you’re caught sneaking around, you’ll get detention.”_

Nayoung’s nagging echoed from the Dungeons. Jieqiong swatted the air as if the Fourth-Year was standing beside her. Rolling her eyes, she skipped up the last few spiraling steps. She nearly tumbled onto the landing where a small wooden door guarded extra equipment for class.

“Alo—” A hacking cough tipped her off balance. She leaned against the wall for support and swallowed to soothe her burning throat. “Alohomora.” There was a dull thud as the lock slid back. Jieqiong lumbered inside and shut the door. “Lumos.” The tip of her wand glowed bright in an instant.

Half of the room was blocked by a mountain of desks which were conjured every lesson to the top of the tower. She turned right and waded through globes of constellations. She pushed aside boxes of compasses and rulers, wheezing when the dust billowed up in clouds. Next to a shelf of dog-eared textbooks with loose threads along the spines lay an unlabeled bin. There were hats, scarves, a pair of gloves with worn palms, and a cloak. Jieqiong reached in and rummaged for a small leather case.

“Gross,” she whined, tossing a soggy left shoe across the room. It squelched when it landed on a desk. The second her fingers brushed over a familiar smooth strap, she yanked it out. “Zhou Jieqiong,” she read in relief. She felt the intricate stitching of characters instead of letters.

“Stop. Please. Please stop! I don’t— I don’t like this! H-help!”

Jieqiong whipped around at the voice. She flicked her wrist and muttered under her breath, extinguishing her wand light. The stomping grew louder as if someone was being chased. Jieqiong stared at the door apprehensively.

She pointed her wand at the lock. “Colloport—”

“G-get away from m-me…”

Jieqiong’s eyes widened as the voice was crystal clear, no louder than a whimper. She took a tentative step forward and reached for the handle. She swore loudly as the door banged open, knocking her wand out of her hand. It clattered to the floor and rolled under the desks. She didn’t have a chance to nurse her throbbing knuckles before a body collapsed on top of her. For a second, she thought she was shaking from the physical trauma. But after the adrenaline kicked in and the pain ebbed away, she noticed the person in her lap was shivering violently.

“Hey, are you alright?” She shook the person’s shoulder to check if they were conscious.

A hand shot forward and gripped Jieqiong’s shoulder with surprising strength. Hair whipped across her face as the person pleaded with shimmering eyes. “M-make it go away! I can’t s-stand the v-voices! Th-they’re l-loud. It’s so c-cold. I’m so t-tired and it’s s-so c-cold.”

The girl’s muttering grew increasingly incomprehensible with her teeth chattering in addition to her sobs. Jieqiong struggled against her better judgment, then threw away all pretense in favor of compassion. “Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know—”

She cut off abruptly as if the words had been ripped out of her throat. A sudden chill ran down her spine. The girl scrambled off of her, but she didn’t let go. She dragged Jieqiong further into the room until their backs hit a stack of chairs. Her body trembled, and Jieqiong found she began shivering too. She took a steadying breath and was confused to see a puff of air condense from her lips. Her eyes trailed towards the open door. An unnatural shadow crept along the floor, engulfing their legs and shrouding their huddled forms.

“D-D-De…” The girl gave a shuddering gasp and fell silent.

Jieqiong barely felt the cold nose or soft eyelashes brushing against her neck as she stared horrified across the landing. Prickles of frost inched across the window pane overlooking the Grounds. The moonlight flickered as if its celestial energy was waning. All at once, the clouds swallowed the full moon as a large tattered cloak glided up to the window. Jieqiong flinched at the scabbed grey claw pressed against the glass, the frost multiplying rapidly upon contact.

“Dementors.”

As soon as Jieqiong uttered the word, a wave of despair washed over her. Irrational thoughts swarmed around her head. Thoughts that didn’t make sense but felt awful all the same. Thoughts that the girl in her arms would stop breathing. That her parents would cast her aside, saying they’ve wasted their time and resources on a disappointment of a witch. That Nayoung wouldn’t speak to her again, claiming Jieqiong was a hassle to guide when she had her own troubles. Jieqiong felt useless and powerless, unworthy, everything she feared to be growing up.

An iron grip on her arm wrenched Jieqiong out of her emotional pit. “Don’t leave me!” The girl shouted. Her voice was stable, but her words were disconnected from the present.

Jieqiong clenched her jaw, resisting the pull into oblivion. She wrapped her arms around the girl’s small frame and closed her eyes. Her mind sifted through memories to extract ancient teachings. Like several times before, she willed her energy to flow like liquid metal, bright and purifying. Her chest burned and the warmth spread to her fingertips, soaking through the girl’s robes to her chilled skin. The shivering ceased. She sighed in exhaustion as Jieqiong sighed in relief. Jieqiong willed her energy to expand as golden light pulsated from her very being. The Dementor hovered outside the window, ravenous and terrifying, its influence severed.

The shadows retreated as the Dementor backed away. Jieqiong thought it had given up on its meal when it dived out of sight. Several more cloaks dotted the sky as a horde of Dementors flocked to the Forbidden Forest. She didn’t know what had distracted them, and she didn’t care. In their absence, the full moon shone beautifully through the clean glass pane. Jieqiong allowed her energy to fill the room before relinquishing control.

The humid air of early June seeped back in. Jieqiong felt as if her skin was being steamed, but she didn’t move. Supporting the girl’s weight, she gingerly swept aside a lock of hair the color of honey. The girl whimpered softly and nuzzled deeper into Jieqiong’s neck.

“You’re okay now,” said Jieqiong softly. She glanced at the spiraling staircase. A thin beam of white light escaped from cracks in the roof hatch. “Scrambling to finish your star charts too? You should know better than to go outside with Dementors hanging about. A happy soul ripe for the picking on the highest tower. Bad idea.” She sighed, realizing she wouldn’t get a response.

With a small grunt, she waved her palm delicately as if carving the air. Her energy became weightless, unbound yet disciplined. Like an extension of herself, a gust of wind swerved around the crowded stacks. A wand dropped into her palm as the breeze dissipated.

“Colloportus.” The door sealed shut with a squelch. Jieqiong set her wand down and stared at the girl resting on her shoulder. Her mind flooded with thoughts of her father, of Nayoung’s countless warnings. She forced them aside and brushed a shaking thumb across the girl’s soft, pale cheek. “Tonight, we leave ourselves behind. We leave fear behind. Sleep well.”

~|~|~|~

Screams of terror shook the night. Fires blazed across the campgrounds. Smoke billowed into the sky, barricading the heavens with smog. Sadistic jeers culminated into roars above the crowds. Shadows streaked by as people fled to the woods for safety.

“Diffindo!”

Jieqiong unsheathed her wand and spun on her heels, prepared for a duel, only to be met with a stern Nayoung. Without a word of explanation, Jieqiong took the outstretched hand and darted out of the tent. A hole had been blasted through the stadium that hosted the Quidditch World Cup merely hours ago. The high pillars were alight like massive torches. Embers rained down upon them. Jieqiong reached out to wipe the unidentifiable burning shreds off of Nayoung’s shoulder, almost tripping over an overturned lawn chair. Nayoung doubled back and helped Jieqiong up, willing her to move forward.

“Wait!” Jieqiong slipped out of Nayoung’s grasp and dived into a seemingly deserted tent.

“Jieqiong! They won’t care whose tents they burn down! They can’t tell! We have to move now!”

Nayoung dashed to the entrance flap, but leapt back as two wheezing figures emerged from the blackened tarp. She gritted her teeth at the wedge in her escape plan.

Jieqiong’s eyes forbade any arguments. “You can ask later. Just help her, please.” Her tone was firm yet desperate. She lifted the body and pulled an arm around her shoulders with a grunt.

Nayoung threw caution to the wind and supported the stranger’s left side. Together they hobbled past smoldering properties. Nayoung’s sharp eye caught a curse rippling towards them. They crouched behind a fallen partition, which splintered into pieces. They shook off the debris and dragged the barely conscious person towards the edge of the woods. Once deep enough where the acrid fumes couldn’t reach them, they rested the body against a large oak tree.

“She’s breathing,” Jieqiong confirmed in relief. She plopped down on the soil, her muscles aching. With a shaking hand, she brushed back the familiar golden hair blocking the girl’s face.

Nayoung’s eyes shifted around warily. “Jieqiong, we have to go. We can’t be seen with her.”

“Do you even know who she is?” Jieqiong was surprised at how defensive she sounded. Nayoung stared down at her pointedly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t— I know you just meant—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nayoung said hastily. “I don’t know her and that’s the issue. That’s a trend here in Britain. If old Wizarding families don’t recognize each other, it tells them a crucial piece of information, one they despise. I memorized them, but they know each other by heart.”

“We can’t just leave her here,” said Jieqiong helplessly. She held her breath as Nayoung swooped down in a heartbeat.

“We can’t stay. She’s safe in the woods. Someone will find her. We can’t be those people.”

“Why not?” Implored Jieqiong. “Nobody’s around—”

Screeches sliced through the air, some in fear and some with pleasure. Jieqiong’s eyes widened as four bodies in the distance twirled fifty feet above the advancing mob, evidently paralyzed and screaming in fear. Several witches and wizards running between the tents trying to locate loved ones were blasted aside and shocked with indiscernible spells.

Nayoung turned slowly to Jieqiong. “I’m certain you recognize those masks as well as I do.”

Jieqiong scanned the hooded rioters, their faces concealed by smooth masks with slits for eyes. She recalled an eerily similar mold dropping from beneath her father’s robes after Apparating to the campgrounds the day prior. Acid coated the back of her throat as realization set in.

“Who— What—” The girl lurched forward while choking. Soot-stained saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes stung from the trapped airborne ashes. She collapsed against the thick trunk, her head chipping off some of the aged bark. “Where am I?” She wheezed.

Nayoung held up a finger to Jieqiong. The bushes nearby rustled as people invaded the clearing. “Silencio.” Nayoung jabbed her wand in the air. The girl was struck dumb, her coughing muted. “Get her far away from here. I can’t perform a Disillusionment Charm—”

“Leave it to me,” said Jieqiong. “Hey, be safe.” She squeezed Nayoung’s hand and scooped up the dazed girl.

She ducked under a low canopy of drooping branches to the shelter of another wide oak. Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly, allowing the fresh dewy scent of the forest to fill her lungs. Her blood cooled, no longer pulsing through her veins. Rather it flowed like a clear stream and cleansed her senses. Jieqiong’s spine tingled at the familiar fluidity, her skin feeling refreshingly drenched. Her energy extended from her fingertips to the body in her arms, which shivered on contact.

“Well, if it isn’t Im. Where’s your sidekick?”

“That’s none of your business,” came Nayoung’s signature neutral voice. Jieqiong risked glancing around the tree at the group of students.

“Probably running with the Mudbloods,” snorted Warrington. Jieqiong recognized the Slytherin Chaser’s tall, burly build.

“We don’t associate with such riffraff,” Nayoung growled convincingly.

“You don’t associate much with us so it’s hard to believe otherwise,” sneered Millicent Bulstrode, a stocky Fourth-Year who could pass for a Seventh-Year.

Nayoung’s arm drew their attention. Jieqiong glimpsed an oval object with two holes bored into the top half peeking out from under her sleeve. The students gasped then smirked approvingly. Jieqiong noted Nayoung’s stiff posture and the wand hidden behind her back.

The girl shifted silently in her arms, incredibly disoriented. Jieqiong glanced down to check on her only to see a pattern of trampled grass and fallen branches. Her trained eyes noticed the slight curve of an arm and torso. Her imitation of a Disillusionment Charm worked, but she had to move quickly. A loud crash from the rioters provided enough cover for her to barrel through the bushes undetected. When the light of the campgrounds was far behind her and the calls of frightened children were out of earshot, Jieqiong took refuge in a semi-circle of ruins. She left the girl slumped over near the largest rock. Catching her breath, she perched on top of a low ledge. It was at least fifteen minutes before there was a disturbance in the foliage a short distance off. Jieqiong held her wand at the ready, but lowered it upon recognizing the tall witch.

She slid off of the rubble and crouched beside the girl who had fallen unconscious again. She dug around in the pocket of her robes. Pulling out a crystal vial, she pressed it into the girl’s slack palm, small and calloused by manual labor. With one last assuring smile, Jieqiong bounded off into the heart of the woods.

~|~|~|~

“In the early days of Quidditch, Seekers came about because a small, fat, round bird called a Golden Snidget was released during a game. A bounty of a hundred fifty Galleons was awarded to the player who could catch it first.”

Jieqiong slapped on a strained smile, feigning interest. The Weird Sisters were on a break and the low buzz of conversation in the Great Hall was lulling her to sleep.

“A hundred years later, the Golden Snidget was nearly squished to extinction. Literally. A human’s grip is strong enough to crush them. The poor fellows, they’re so fragile. Of course there was Snidget hunting too.”

She wished she hadn’t inspected every inch of the grand decorations during the meal. The icicles looked more artificial by the second. The snow-flecked enchanted ceiling had lost its wonder. The iceskating snowmen on the centerpieces flew through their routines on repeat.

“Now about a hundred years later, they were declared endangered. Well you can’t have Quidditch without the traditional Snidget. Absolutely preposterous! Until!” The boy jabbed a stubby finger in Jieqiong’s face, snapping her out of her daze. “Bowman Wright, a renowned metal charmer, created the Golden Snitch we use today.”

Jieqiong sighed and leaned back in her chair. Calming her heartbeat provided a good distraction. Quidditch was fun to watch, great to play, exciting to talk about. But after the first half hour, delving into the history of it grew a tad dull.

“You might’ve heard that Snitches have flesh memory. It’s how you tell which Seeker touched it first in case of a dispute. That’s why everyone, _everyone_, has to wear gloves prior to—”

“Nayoung!” Jieqiong bolted out of her seat as the tall Slytherin glided up to their table. Jieqiong turned to the Beauxbatons boy with a pseudo-apologetic expression. “So sorry, but she and I have something to discuss. Urgent business. Uh, help yourself to the food, socialize, it’s a great party. Who knows when it’ll be hosted again.”

“Speaking of which,” whispered Nayoung as she led Jieqiong to the dance floor. “You don’t seem to be enjoying this once-in-a-lifetime event.”

“I feel better now that you’re here.” Jieqiong rested her left hand on Nayoung’s shoulder, grasping Nayoung’s hand with her right.

“Would you rather have come without a date?” Nayoung stepped around Jieqiong and lifted her by the waist, Jieqiong’s cerulean gown flowing around them.

Jieqiong landed gracefully, her heels clacking against the tiles. “Honestly, yes. Or…” She slammed forcefully into Nayoung as she twirled. “Why couldn’t you just ask me?”

Nayoung grunted and massaged her stomach. She stumbled for a few steps before sliding back into the waltz with her hand on Jieqiong’s hip. “Someone asked me before I had the chance. It took less words to accept. Ow!” Nayoung hopping on one foot was a satisfying sight. She didn’t have the foresight to wear closed-toed shoes. When she straightened up to her full height, Jieqiong promised not to pull any more shenanigans. “Look, it was exam time, alright? O.W.L. year is tough as is. Then you have Krum and Delacour cramming up every study area with their fan clubs and heart-eyed admirers. I needed as much peace and quiet as possible. Scoring a date for the Yule Ball was not a priority.”

“Asking me immediately would’ve saved us both the hassle,” grumbled Jieqiong.

“Don’t I get points for rescuing you?” Asked Nayoung hopefully.

Jieqiong turned up her nose and answered curtly in a striking likeness to Professor McGonagall. “I’m feeling generous today. Your efforts deserve an A for Acceptable.” Nayoung stuck out her tongue. Jieqiong giggled, feeling almost normal for once. “What happened to your date?”

“He got bored. Left me for a Durmstrang girl. Lucky me.”

“I don’t hear a single trace of sarcasm.”

“Oh, there isn’t any,” Nayoung assured. “Were you by any chance waiting around for me?”

Jieqiong slapped Nayoung’s shoulder as the couples spun around in unison. “Attractive as you are, I don’t appreciate the pompousness. However, you are preferable to most guests tonight.”

The string quartet earned the applause of the floor. They bowed and scuttled off-stage as The Weird Sisters resumed their positions. Nayoung was about to retaliate when someone across the hall caught her eye.

“Most guests, you say? But not all.”

Jieqiong gave her a suspicious look, thankful that her heels matched them at eye level.

Nayoung smiled, her cheeks growing rounder with a youthfulness Jieqiong hadn’t seen before. “I’m parched from all that dancing. I’ll grab us a couple Butterbeers. It might take a while, what with the long line and rush to replenish the refreshments.”

Jieqiong furrowed her eyebrows. Only three people milled about the snack tables, one of them being Professor Trelawney who snuck into the ball despite her constant refusals and warnings of bad omens. She refilled her oversized wine glass with an uncoordinated swish of her wand. The table beside her was loaded with bottles.

“It’s a bit stuffy in here. Perhaps you should get some fresh air.” Nayoung leaned in closer under the guise of a hug. “Somewhere you _won’t be disturbed_.”

Jieqiong watched her retreating back in confusion. Taking the suggestion, Jieqiong weaved through the mosh pit jamming to the Wizarding band and headed for the open Entrance Hall, meanwhile averting her eyes from people getting a bit too physical. She hobbled awkwardly over to the giant hourglasses holding the house points. Resting her back against the cool glass, she closed her eyes. The floor shook with the amplified cello and banging drums. Then a breeze swept past her. She detected a floral scent like roses, yet it was fresh like apples. Her eyes fluttered open as a head of honey-toned hair swept out the oak front doors. Her mind shut off for a good three seconds. Glancing back inside, she saw Nayoung was occupied.

She didn’t remember rushing down the stone steps. The front lawn had been planted with leafy partitions and high hedges. Rose bushes glowed with fairy lights, their soft giggles almost musical. She walked deeper into the decorative grotto, past the statue of Father Christmas and his reindeer. The area was enclosed, imbued with the calming atmosphere of a pure winter night. No clouds shrouded the twinkling stars.

“Hey, stranger.”

Jieqiong remained rooted to her spot, speechless as a girl walked out from behind a hedge. Her long hair flowed over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. What were once loose curls unraveled elegantly into mussed waves. The golden locks contrasted with her midnight black dress barely sweeping along the snowy path. Jieqiong licked her dry lips as she took in the girl’s features. Her face was round, cheeks smooth and pale, alluring in the moonlight. Her eyes were simply captivating, shaped like a cat’s and enhanced by the smokey eyeshadow. The girl stepped forward with a smirk. Jieqiong stumbled back.

“You’re more elusive than I expected. Gave me quite a challenge.” The girl advanced slowly, her smile growing wider with confidence. Jieqiong’s back hit a neatly trimmed bush. The fairies fluttered out and occupied the canopy above. “Then again, I wasn’t in my right mind both times.”

“Uh,” Jieqiong uttered dumbly. “Pardon?”

The girl chuckled. It was feminine with a goofy undertone. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you don’t remember. You were the conscious one. Six months and I’m doing all the heavy lifting. Chasing nothing but rumors of a privileged beauty from the East.” She shook her head in disappointment, her teasing grin expressing otherwise.

“I don’t— I mean we—” Jieqiong’s head spun with the assault of fruit and roses on her senses.

The girl gave Jieqiong half a foot of extra space while enjoying her power trip. “You’re right. We haven’t introduced ourselves properly.” She extended a small hand. “I’m Eunwoo Jung.”

Jieqiong shook her hand feebly. “Eunwoo Jung,” she murmured.

Eunwoo laughed heartily. “I’d bet the Triwizard earnings we don’t share the same name.”

Jieqiong flushed in embarrassment. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’m Jieqiong Zhou.”

“And I thought my name was a tongue-twister. Jieqiong Zhou,” Eunwoo repeated effortlessly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet my savior.”

Images of tattered cloaks, glass iced over, raging fires and chanting masks flooded Jieqiong’s mind. She retracted her hand as if burned. She didn’t miss the flash of hurt twisting Eunwoo’s delicate features. Jieqiong cut in before Eunwoo could apologize. “It was nothing.”

Eunwoo scoffed lightly. “You call staving off a deprived Dementor, nothing? You pulled me out of a burning tent in the midst of a dark wizard riot, lugged me into the safety of the woods, and left me a potion for my lungs and jittery nerves. Was that also just part of your daily routine?”

Jieqiong shrugged. “Anyone would’ve done the same.” She was surprised when Eunwoo laughed.

“No. Nobody would’ve done the same. If you exclude all the Ministry workers who are paid to do that, and everyone already occupied with the mob, the pool isn’t that large. Take out all the underaged students who only had enough energy to flee themselves, all the parents who had families to look after. And what am I left with? You.”

“Me,” Jieqiong croaked. The word felt like a lead weight on her tongue.

“You,” Eunwoo repeated. “A thousand students attending Hogwarts and it was still difficult to find you. The more I dug, the more confused I became. Why would a Pureblood Slytherin willingly save me twice and not even spin a tale of my cowardice and ineptitude?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why does anyone do anything these days? Superiority. Image. Alliances.” Eunwoo inspected Jieqiong carefully, a charade of four years crumbling apart under her gaze. “But you… You don’t want any of that. That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to not care.”

“What do you know about that?” Jieqiong muttered, holding down deep-seated resentment.

“Nothing,” Eunwoo shrugged. “All I know is that I’ve been called a freak for making my Brussels sprouts disappear in the cafeteria, for making toys float in the air, for throwing snow without touching it because I was pushed into the mud. And when I got to Hogwarts, I’ve been shoved into toilets, had my homework burned in front of me, and had my wand snapped twice. All because I exist with the wrong kind of parents, accepted to a house that’s been a laughing stock until Cedric was chosen as a Champion. What do I know about hate and judgment?”

Jieqiong bowed her head. Her chest ached for the girl’s harbored pain. “You shouldn’t have to be a—“ She gasped as Eunwoo lifted her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Their noses were mere inches apart. “A victim,” breathed Jieqiong.

“And you shouldn’t have to be a culprit. I see it. You don’t enjoy it like the others do. Your friend is better at hiding it though. The front she puts up works in her favor. Forever annoyed and can’t be bothered with anyone except you.”

Jieqiong cracked a smile at the one thing she’s been told off for for years. “I have a lot to learn.”

Eunwoo smiled back, her eyes curving adorably. “You do.”

They stared at each other in peaceful silence until Jieqiong had a burning question, simple yet nagging. “No spiel about screwing the world and doing what I believe in?”

Eunwoo shook her head. She gently held Jieqiong’s hands and pulled her to the center of the tiny courtyard. “What you believe in may be a mess of righteous and rotten. How you live by those beliefs may be just as convoluted. And maybe your lot in life has already been broken. What you can do with the pieces leaves a rancid taste on your tongue, but you’re doing your best. I couldn’t care less about the arguments and wits. For once a stranger didn’t judge what my worth is, but that I am worth something. That’s repayment enough for turning a blind eye.”

“A life is worth something. You’re worth everything.” The words tumbled out of Jieqiong’s mouth unfiltered.

“Isn’t it a bit too early in our relationship to say that?” Eunwoo teased, lifting the mood again.

Jieqiong's nose scrunched up. Her heart felt lighter. “Six months and I’ve saved you twice. I’ll bet the rest of my convoluted ways that I’d save you a third time.”

Eunwoo poked Jieqiong in the shoulder. Her nail left a pink imprint in the smooth skin. “I’m holding you to that.” Music burst out of the doors as students filed into the castle in pairs. “It looks like the party’s over.”

“Wait. One last dance?” Jieqiong shuffled shyly from one foot to the other trying to make an excuse. “It’s Christmas. We should celebrate. Just two people without the world staring.”

“Sure,” Eunwoo said softly. She pulled Jieqiong closer by the neck as toned arms wrapped around her waist. “One last dance, just for us.”

~|~|~|~

The cement jungle of downtown London disappeared in puffs of steam. The train chugged on hour after hour as villages and hills streaked past the windows. The sun set and the sky grew dim, leaving the compact compartment steeped in darkness. The late summer air was stale and cold. It sucked up all energy within the vicinity, leaving nothing but an animated shell. The doors between cars rattled as three boys stalked to the last cabin with the hopes of harassing a certain famed young wizard. A few minutes passed before they returned to the front of the Hogwarts Express. The leader of the trio glanced through the small window curiously without breaking step. The lone occupant made no sign of recognition, eyes unfocused and face plain. A deafening toot from the engine masked the clattering of the compartment door sliding open.

“Stop that.” Jieqiong jumped in her seat as Nayoung yanked her hand away from her lips. Nayoung’s expression hardened upon seeing a crimson drop oozing out of the torn cuticle. With a steadying sigh, her voice became gentle and coaxing. “It’s a bad habit.”

Jieqiong stared blankly at the familiar round face. So young yet strong with a voice of steel and eyes like a hawk’s. She watched silently as Nayoung reached up. Her slender fingers were warm and comforting. Jieqiong felt them brushing her stark black hair behind her ear and a thumb pressing soothingly into her sunken cheek.

“Hey, talk to me,” pleaded Nayoung. Even on her knee, she was taller than Jieqiong slumped in her seat.

Jieqiong rested her hand on top of Nayoung’s. Her cold fingers in contrast sent a shiver down Nayoung’s spine, the prominent bony bulge in Jieqiong’s wrist making her stomach churn. Jieqiong looked forlorn, lost and weak. When she spoke, her voice was raspy from disuse. “How do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

Jieqiong’s attention was on Nayoung’s pale, thin lips. Those lips that had spoken so easily, so purposefully not a fortnight prior. “How do you not crumble under the Dark Lord’s gaze?” The fragility of her voice shocked the both of them. Nayoung’s fingers twitched against Jieqiong’s jaw. Jieqiong curled her fingers around Nayoung’s palm, desperately holding onto reality. The word _Liar_ impaled every thought and invaded the deepest recesses of her mind. Nayoung hushed Jieqiong and lifted herself onto the seat meant for one. She pulled Jieqiong’s shivering frame into her side, resting her chin on the girl’s head. A tear fell into her lap.

“I hate it. It felt like his soul was slithering through my head.” Jieqiong barely noticed Nayoung’s arms stiffen around her waist.

“How far?”

Jieqiong leaned out of the embrace. She soon regretted it as the evening chill seeped back into her bones. “What do you mean how far?”

“How far did his presence extend?”

Vulnerability took over Jieqiong’s body as she struggled to recall the exact moment she detected it. She shook her head. “He didn’t really go anywhere. It was as if… as if he was rooting himself, openly declaring that he could.” Nayoung exhaled in relief. “Wh-why?”

“What did you feel? Right when you two locked eyes. What did you feel?”

“Fear.” The word rang as clear as a church bell.

“Good,” said Nayoung sternly. “Fear is overwhelming. Fear will keep your mind locked.”

“Nayoung, I don’t understand.” Jieqiong became frantic, her voice rising an octave.

Nayoung grasped Jieqiong’s hands, her breathing even and calm. “Legilimency. Ever heard of it?” Jieqiong shook her head. “It’s a very advanced branch of magic that allows the caster to weave through the intricacies of another’s mind and deduce information. The roots of memories, thoughts, and emotions open the mind, making it vulnerable to penetration. The Dark Lord is a very skilled Legilimens. It’s how he tells if his followers are lying.”

“But you said fear is… good? Everyone feared him the night he returned.”

“They fear of disappointing him. They say what they think he wants to hear. He punishes for failure and punishes for dishonesty, for disloyalty. But you do not beg him for forgiveness in forethought. You fear him for the tales whispered across lands near and far. That fear feeds him power. It also shields every crevice of your mind. You don’t fear what he will do if you’re wrong. You fear him, his very presence. That is what molds a loyal servant. Fear and reverence.”

Jieqiong let the words sink in. Nothing but a jumbled mess littering her brain. Carefully, she began to piece them together. If he broke through, people would suffer. Loved ones, precious ones. Those deemed worthy and above standards would be left alone. But others… one other… _She_ was unacceptable. Jieqiong gripped onto the collar of Nayoung’s robes. Nayoung’s warm hands enveloped her trembling ones, loosening her hold and bringing her back to her senses.

“Listen to me. Never think of her while you are in his presence. Never. You think of him only. Think of that first meeting, of those red snakelike pupils, of that high, piercing voice. That fear will save her. That fear will save you.”

“But it hurts,” sobbed Jieqiong. Her head felt heavy and congested. It lolled onto Nayoung’s shoulder as more tears rolled down her cheeks into Nayoung’s lap. “It’s suffocating.”

“I know,” said Nayoung, her voice shaking. She pulled Jieqiong closer, intent on making her listen. “I know. It’s dark and scary and endless. But you have to trust me. When he looks at you and demands an answer, let fear take over.”

Time seemed to blur together. Jieqiong vaguely processed Nayoung wiping her cheeks dry as she nodded weakly. She barely heard Nayoung say she needed to meet with the other prefects to guide the First-Years once the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station. Waves sloshing around in her head blocked out the ruckus of students yelling in the corridor. She sat in silence, in the cold and shaded compartment, mulling over Nayoung’s advice. She inhaled slowly, forcefully embracing the frosty air ripping apart her lungs.

It was like breathing water. Impossible yet inconceivably necessary. A slow burn. An illusion of peace and calm. To give up control and be lost by will, swept away in the waves of demands and expectations. To be defined, to be marked with a value. For the new regime was upon them. To live in the new world she must breathe water, lest she drown.

~|~|~|~

Madam Pince swooped past the bookshelves with her beady eyes trained on every potential literary defacer. Jieqiong flipped through the yellowing pages of her book. The illustration depicted an exact replica of the tapestry on the seventh floor of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. Appropriately, the next section described _A_ _Catastrophe of Clubs._ Three trolls then chased Barnabas out of the frame.

“I didn’t take you for a history buff.”

The corner of the library suddenly felt warm and cozy. Jieqiong breathed in slowly. The intoxicating scent of roses and apples barely permeated through the musky odor of ancient tomes and dusty anthologies. Someone plucked out a two-inch syllabary from the other side of the bookshelf. Her lips curved up to mirror Eunwoo’s faint smile.

“It’s good to be well-rounded.” Jieqiong’s nose twitched as Eunwoo scoffed. “How are you?”

Eunwoo’s smile faded along with Jieqiong’s. She reached through the hole and gingerly held Jieqiong’s face which was slimmer than she remembered. Her thumb caressed the dark circle beneath Jieqiong’s left eye, the sunken skin contrasting with her prominent cheekbone. “Better than you, apparently.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s all I ever do nowadays. You dare strip me of my hobby?” Eunwoo placed her other hand over her chest in mock offense. Her head moved back to reveal a small bulge of flesh beneath her chin. It always amused Jieqiong and it hasn’t failed yet. Jieqiong snickered with a nose scrunch. It felt sore, like she hadn’t laughed in years. Eunwoo stared, etching this moment in her mind and Jieqiong did the same. “I haven’t see you at meals all week,” she said softly.

Jieqiong shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

Eunwoo gave her a stern look reminiscent of Nayoung’s. “Eat or you’re going to waste away.” Jieqiong hummed noncommittally. Her stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought of steak and kidney pie. “What’s gotten into you? You know you can tell me anything.”

Jieqiong smiled wryly. A face white as chalk with red slits for pupils flashed across her mind. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Jieqiong—”

“Listen to me. There are worse things than the Inquisitorial Squad docking points from every other house, or the Quidditch team throwing your cauldron down the moving staircases. Things are bad enough as is for you. You’re better off not knowing.” Her voice was kind and persuasive, burying the degrading mess underneath. She rejoiced as Eunwoo gave her a look of resolve. Then a thick book plugged up the space between them. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt.

“Oi, Zhou. What are you doing here all alone? What’s that?” Jieqiong remained tight-lipped as Montague perused the text in her arms. “A History of Wizarding Troll Relations? What a bore. Why not come down to the lake? I saw some First-Years talking to that blundering oaf, Hagrid. Let’s rough ‘em up a bit. We could even stop by Professor Umbridge’s office. I’m sure she’ll induct you immediately.” He gave Jieqiong a knowing, toothy grin while leaning against the shelves. The silver badge embossed with a capital I pinned to his robes flashed in the sunlight.

“I’m fine, thanks,” said Jieqiong. She didn’t have to fake the exhaustion in her voice.

Montague screwed up his face. “Why not?” Jieqiong didn’t miss the slightly accusatory tone.

“O.W.L.s are in less than two months. I have loads of work. As… great… as it sounds to put the… Mudbloods in their place, I simply don’t have time.” She suppressed the urge to vomit.

Montague eyed her suspiciously. Thankfully he seemed convinced by the nearby table swamped with a high stack of Transfiguration notes, a thirteen-inch Potions essay, a charmed teacup with four legs sleeping on _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, and a planner filled to the margins. He stalked off while grumbling in disappointment.

Jieqiong sighed and detected that lightly floral scent she always craved. Small arms wrapped around her waist from behind as a head rested on her shoulder.

“Five years and you’re still terrible at acting. It’s a good thing the rest of the Slytherins are too dimwitted to call you out on it.”

“Stirring up school drama is the least of my worries. It’s the real world we need to look out for.”

“You’re starting to sound like Potter,” laughed Eunwoo.

Jieqiong sniffed in mild amusement. “That boy doesn’t exactly have it wrong.” Her words weighed heavily. She knew Eunwoo understood. She caught the girl perusing a banned copy of _The Quibbler_ in the Astronomy Tower cupboard back in March.

Eunwoo spun Jieqiong around to face her. “So Miss Realist. What does the _real_ world hold for you? Career Advice was last week. Of course, I haven’t seen you for a week.” She tickled Jieqiong in the stomach. Jieqiong’s squirming was a running joke about how elusive she was.

Jieqiong recalled her meeting with Professor Snape. It was simple and orderly. Void of emotion and most importantly, nonsense. Umbridge didn’t feel the need to supervise her own house’s advising sessions. Nonetheless, it wasn’t wise to expose too much within the walls of Hogwarts. He examined her transcript approvingly. She received nothing less than an Exceeds Expectations in her classes thus far. He suggested several options and she politely declined, indicating her duty was to her father’s network. The emphasis was not lost. The corner of his lip curled stiffly and he reviewed what N.E.W.T.s would best suit her needs.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully and decided on a simple response. “Business.”

“What, like international business? Well I guess the Wizarding World has its own global trade.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Jieqiong smiled at the thought of Eunwoo’s assumptions. Holding stocks on flying carpets perhaps or dealing in charmed pottery and jewelry. “What about you?”

Eunwoo’s face split into a wide grin. Jieqiong appreciated the girl’s radiating energy. She felt like a wilting sprout receiving the first light of spring. “I want to sing.”

“Sing? But there’s…”

“Nothing magical about singing?” Eunwoo suggested knowingly.

Jieqiong averted her eyes in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It is and I get it.” Eunwoo wiggled her fingers threateningly by Jieqiong’s waist. Jieqiong held her hands still in exchange for facing her properly. “I want to work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry.”

Jieqiong clicked her tongue and gave Eunwoo a small shove. “In other words, musical therapy.”

“For dragons,” chirped Eunwoo, happy that Jieqiong had caught on.

“And Manticores, Hippocampus, and Chimaeras?”

“And Nundus, Tebos, Runespoors, and Snallygasters,” Eunwoo declared proudly.

Jieqiong shook her head in amazement. “Taming beasts near and far. What inspired you?”

“You remember Buckbeak?”

“That Hippogriff that slashed Draco’s arm? Or so he moaned on about.”

“Yeah. Before his execution, there were some students harassing him. I saw them while helping Professor Sprout tend to the gardens. They kept throwing stones and prodding him with long branches. Hagrid wasn’t around and the poor fellow kept squawking. I don’t know what made me do it, but I just walked up to him and started singing. I sang until he stopped clawing the dirt. I sang until he stopped snapping his beak at me. I sang until he fell asleep against the post he was tethered to. And I kept singing until the students came back.”

“You never told me this.”

“You didn’t know me at the time. There was never a reason to bring it up.”

“They did something to you, didn’t they?” Jieqiong couldn’t suppress her anger.

“They tried. They were going to dump ink bottles all over Buckbeak’s feathers. When they saw me, they thought I’d make a better target. They got within a foot of me before Buckbeak woke up. He snapped his beak at them, spread his wings wide. He didn’t touch them, not after the incident, but it scared them. They bolted for the castle with their tails between their legs.”

“So you found your calling?”

“I guess,” laughed Eunwoo. “Here’s the thing. I don’t need to cast spells for every job. Music moves the soul. It translates the heart and mind. It soothes and protects. It connects spirits thousands of miles apart.”

“That sounds a lot like magic to me,” said Jieqiong fondly.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“It’s… It’s a beautiful dream.” Jieqiong bit her lip and squeezed Eunwoo’s hands. “Hey. Promise you’ll sing for me one day?”

Eunwoo tilted her head and scoffed. “Why so glum? I’ll sing for you any day. Just ask.”

“Not any day,” said Jieqiong solemnly. “Just for one day.”

~|~|~|~

Jieqiong inspected herself in the wall length mirror. Her fingers trailed over the fine embroidered silk. Scales of dragons intricately woven into the feathers of a fiery phoenix. Her flowing dress left a trail of shimmering scarlet in her wake. Her father appraised her attire, always preferable to the dreadfully common black robes she wore during term. He offered his arm and led Jieqiong under an archway of two preserved Occamies into a grand atrium.

They flitted from guest to guest, extravagance oozing from every corner. A couple boasted of their recent expedition — a chest full of Yeti claws fetching for a nice price on the black market. A wizard spoke in hushed whispers hidden behind a shadowed smirk. Jieqiong caught snippets of tomb raiding missions with mentions of Dzou Yen and forgotten alchemy. A tall witch drinking a bubbling green concoction, renowned as the richest entrepreneur in the East to the right people, greeted the pair and delved into the intricacies of dragon breeding.

A voice smooth as velvet cut across the noise. A woman with a white Sphinx pelt shrouding her shoulders linked arms with Jieqiong’s father. Her mother greeted the dragon trader and excused them. Unlike at Hogwarts where Jieqiong weaved through dusty passages and avoided the other students as much as possible, the crowd seemed to part for the Zhou family. The other guests stared in awe, or jealousy. Jieqiong couldn’t tell which. According to her father, both were appreciated.

“There’s someone you must meet, darling. I think this will open many new avenues for you,” said her mother. They sauntered over to a standing table as a couple turned around gracefully, their cocktails sparkling and sizzling. The flashiness was a bizarre contrast to their straight-backed posture and stoic expressions. Their eyes however gleamed at the approaching family.

Their voices seemed to fade out. Every turn of her head made the room spin. The tailored dress robes and colorful gowns smeared into a gaudy mess. Jieqiong barely held herself together as she greeted the couple. Her voice was swallowed by the room before it reached her ears. Then all at once, her head snapped back to reality. Her ear drums rattled with haughty laughter. She felt the prickling fibers of the tablecloth beneath her palm. Her vision sharpened with striking clarity, her focus on a lean girl gliding over to their table. She bowed her head in greeting before slipping an arm around Jieqiong’s waist and whispering into her ear.

“This is the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other. How have you been?”

Jieqiong leaned into Nayoung’s side. “I wouldn’t say worse, but it’s not any better.”

“It’s not any easier, you mean,” said Nayoung.

“Everyone knows now. They’re panicking and scrambling and I’m supposed to rejoice. It’s been utter chaos the past three months. The entire country’s in disarray, Wizarding and Muggle.”

“So I’ve heard. Bridges collapsing, tornadoes, disappearances. He’s been busy this summer.”

“He’s been furious,” breathed Jieqiong. She felt Nayoung’s thumb rub soothing circles into her exposed back. “Twelve Death Eaters thwarted by a ragtag gang of teenagers, eleven imprisoned, and no prophecy confiscated. It’s not the return he envisioned.”

“Maybe not. Regardless, it’s striking fear into people’s hearts after a fifteen-year lull. The shock of having to accept something deemed impossible is devastating.”

“You’re right. By no means is it considered a failure. But anyway, what have you been up to?”

“Learning the ropes,” Nayoung said cryptically. She smiled at Jieqiong’s sneer. Her eyes roamed conspicuously over to their conversing parents.

Jieqiong followed her line of sight. It was then she noticed the decorative shoulders and pins on Nayoung’s father’s dress robes. “Military,” she gasped, eyes locked on the three flaming golden stars under two crossed wands. “But that would mean you… Are you?”

Nayoung nodded slowly. “My father’s a Lieutenant General. Shouldn’t be long before he’s promoted. I never told you, but I travel back to South Korea every summer to train with the elite task force under his command. Working my own way up the ranks should the day come that I take his place.”

“Are you leaving?” Jieqiong refrained from adding _me. _It was terrifying to think of life without her. It was Nayoung’s final year at Hogwarts. Her father would want his only child to stay close.

Sensing Jieqiong’s unease, Nayoung pulled her closer. It felt secure but most of all, Jieqiong felt her presence. Nayoung leaned down, her lips almost touching Jieqiong’s ear. “I’m not going anywhere. I told you I’d stay right by your side through all of this. At the very least, I’ll have to act as my father’s liaison until you graduate. We’ll take it from there.”

Jieqiong was speechless. It wasn’t as solid of an answer as she hoped, but she’d take it. As this new information sunk in, their parents’ conversation drew their attention.

“I’ve recently come across an alchemist who works underground,” said Jieqiong’s father. “Extensive research on toxins. It’s absolutely astounding. In fact, one particular substance might pique your interest. Befuddlement at worst, complete control at best.”

Nayoung’s father raised an eyebrow. “An interesting yet vague prospect.” They chuckled lowly.

“It’s quite complex. Given to any stranger, it will disorient the senses. Given to a loyal subject, it renders the mind vulnerable to external influence.”

“That’s quite dangerous for a legion sent on confidential missions.”

“Ah, but loyalty is the key here. You are a leader. You have the trust and admiration of your men. But there’s a reason you don’t flaunt your opinions on the battlefield. With this toxin, they would follow you without question. A true army to call your own. It’s not greed I speak to, though the prestige is welcome, I’m sure. I’m a businessman. And what you can do, what your men can provide — it’s an invaluable resource. High in demand and of the greatest quality. You know exactly who would be interested in someone of your caliber.”

“Forgive me, but it sounds like you take me for a mercenary.”

“Are you a mercenary if monetary gains are insignificant? We’re all working towards a greater purpose in our own ways, some more under the radar than others. But he can unite us better than any before. He’s already shed light upon it. And an alliance with you? Nigh unstoppable.”

A clear bell rang throughout the convention hall. The chatter died down as everyone found their seats. “We shall continue this discussion later,” said Nayoung’s father.

A witch donning a dragon hide frock strutted across the stage to welcome the guests and introduce the night’s events beginning with a set of presentations. A short, stocky wizard waddled onstage as a projection popped up in the center of the room. The glowing title rotated high above the bewitched animations: _Preliminary experimentation on the origin of magic in non-Wizarding individuals with possible implications on extraction methodology._ The color drained from Jieqiong’s face as she watched the muted projection of three people shackled to a table with wands pressed to their temples. Nayoung’s fingers interlaced with hers did nothing to abate her disgust.

~|~|~|~

Half an hour had passed. She didn’t like being alone in Malfoy Manor. Everything was too grandiose, too vast and empty. She felt vulnerable, like prey feeding on the open savannah in broad daylight. All of her superiors looked down their high noses at her. Wide smiles painted on their thin pale lips to show approval of her family’s allegiance and devotion. Piercing eyes ready to detect the slightest notion of incompetence for a chance to climb the ranks and be praised by their master.

Unable to stand the impenetrable silence, she pushed herself off the armchair and scoured the building for any sign of Nayoung, avoiding the rooms from which voices drifted out the doors lest she bump shoulders with Bellatrix Lestrange. Finally at the end of a dark corridor on the second floor, she saw light filtering out of the piano room. It often provided refuge as Death Eaters didn’t have time for music.

The door was ajar but only showed a sliver of the wide room. She recognized Yaxley’s aged profile. He took a swig of mead and glowered at someone out of sight. A wand slipped out of his sleeve. Her heart jolted at the sound of a slash made by the sharpest of winds accompanied by a blinding flash. “Know your place. You do not refuse orders and you do _not_ refuse for others. You are presented with the highest honor and _this_ is how you show your gratitude?”

There was a loud gasp and the clash of a chair toppling over. “I am not refusing.” Jieqiong froze when Nayoung’s unwavering voice carried out to the hall. “I will do it, but leave her behind. Jieqiong isn’t ready by a long shot. She can’t handle a task of such importance. She’s too inexperienced and lacks the willpower. The weakling hasn’t tortured a single harmless creature.”

There was pure disgust in her voice. Overbearing shame. A harshness never before heard. It wasn’t piercing, but slow and painful, like a serrated edge. It grated against the spirit and chipped away at the finely polished surfaces. What was left was ugly, raw desperation.

“Then I should drag her as she weeps,” Yaxley said slowly and clearly, his patience wearing thin. “She’ll need to prove herself more than ever if what you say is true. We all owe ourselves to the Dark Lord. She,” he growled, “is no exception.”

“I’m telling you, it’s a wasted effort,” Nayoung insisted.

“Do I look like I care? If either of you fail, you are of no use. A waste regardless. Better to dispose of you sooner.”

“Bring me and you will succeed. Take her along and you get to explain why one of the most powerful families brings nothing to the table, only to offer nothing yourself. It will be your fault. You, who cannot coerce a child. You, who ended an empire before it could rise.”

“Such insolence. I served in the First War for the Dark Lord himself. A trusted leader in his circle. What am I if I let _you_ dictate my job?”

“A smart man,” said Nayoung simply. “I’m merely telling you how this benefits you and the Dark Lord most. If you refuse to act in his best interests, what _does_ that make you?”

Jieqiong backed away slowly. Her shaking hand muffled any squeaks. She felt ice cold. Her lungs pressed painfully against her ribs. They stung with every inhale and collapsed with every exhale. She tore her eyes away from the door and bolted down the hallway. She ran up two flights of stairs, never feeling the burn in her thighs. The closet door sealed magically with a suctioning sound. A jumbled incantation silenced the small space. A wand clattered against the hardwood floor. Jieqiong’s back hit the wall, forcing a hiccuping sob up her throat. She could feel a wispy promise, once an iron forged pact, filtering through her desperate hands like fine grained sand. For once she took solace in the dark and isolation, where the only soul she trusted had left her to cower, like the runt of a litter too expensive to nurture.

~|~|~|~

“Jieqiong.” Nayoung said sternly. There was no response. She picked up the pace, taking longer strides to catch up. “Jieqiong,” she said louder, her tone now demanding. The girl disappeared around the corner. Nayoung sighed and took a few leaps forward. She reached out a hand and gripped onto Jieqiong’s elbow. “Jieqiong! Will you stop for a minute? Why are you ignoring me? This isn’t like you at all.”

“This isn’t like _me_?” Asked Jieqiong in a suspiciously airy tone. “Who are _you_ to say I’m not acting like myself?”

Nayoung furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you okay?” She asked tentatively.

Jieqiong let out a mirthless chuckle. “Are you? Aren’t you tired of it all? Tired of hiding who you really are?”

“What are you—”

Jieqiong cut across, her voice suddenly low. “Aren’t you tired of _me_?”

Nayoung stilled. Her face looked sickly in the flickering light of the wall braziers. “Why… Why would you say that? Why would you ever think that?” Nayoung’s voice rarely shook, but it racked every word Jieqiong heard. It only made her angrier.  
  
“I heard you arguing with Yaxley!” Jieqiong exploded as she rounded on Nayoung. “‘Don’t bring puny crybaby Zhou into this. Leave her behind. She’s not worth your time. A weakling, can’t even torture a rabbit!’ That’s what you told him, you two-faced traitor! How could you?!”

Jieqiong’s spirit shattered even more when Nayoung’s eyes widened. It was as good as a confirmation. She didn’t let the older girl fabricate an excuse. How many others had she believed? Before Nayoung could make a sound, Jieqiong slammed her against the cold wall of the Dungeons. Nayoung winced and Jieqiong felt her resolve waver. Nayoung had thrown out her arm behind her and her elbow was twisted at an odd angle. Still, Jieqiong was determined not to let Nayoung escape.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nayoung gritted between clenched teeth.

Those unfamiliar words were meant to create distance. The verbal attempt to push Jieqiong out reignited her fury. She dug her nails deeper into Nayoung’s shoulders. “You lied to me.”

Nayoung stopped struggling. Jieqiong’s tone was sharp, almost like a hiss. It grated against Jieqiong’s heart on its way out and pierced Nayoung straight through the chest. The accusation burned like white hot iron on soft flesh, for both of them to hear it out loud. But what was most heartbreaking was admitting defeat. She had lost Nayoung, the only person she could navigate this ugly side of the world with, a world hellbent on destruction as a means for rebirth. A tear rolled down her cheek and off her chin. The stone floor absorbed it immediately. And then another fell, and another. Nayoung remained immobile even when Jieqiong released her. Jieqiong felt nauseous as she slid to the floor against the opposite wall. She pulled her legs up to her chest and hid her face in her arms.

Jieqiong heard a weary grunt and felt a new warmth insulate her from the chill, damp air. Nayoung rested her head on Jieqiong’s right shoulder with a deep sigh and clasped their hands together. Jieqiong’s hand twitched as if to twist away, but then the cold thin fingers tightened their grip. The atmosphere was heavy. It had escalated and died down much too quickly. The fluctuations made Jieqiong’s head spin and by the looks of it, it had drained what little energy Nayoung had.

Jieqiong sniffed loudly. Her voice was hoarse. “You said… You said we’d always be together. No matter what they ordered us to do. You said you’d stay by my side.” Jieqiong’s voice cracked, rising an octave and sounding as small as a mouse. “Am I that useless to you now? Am I that expendable? You must be tired of dragging around dead weight when all you want to do is survive. You could’ve told me. I wouldn’t have bogged you down.”

There was a soft, exhausted chuckle. Nayoung raised her head with great effort. Jieqiong stared back and saw nothing but pure admiration and fondness in Nayoung’s bloodshot eyes. It was then that she realized she had made a grave mistake. Overwhelmed by shame, she kept quiet.

Nayoung chuckled again. The guilt practically wafted off of Jieqiong. “If you’re so quick to assume that, it seems you have learned nothing about me all these years.” The faint smile never left Nayoung’s lips.

Jieqiong groaned, her left hand covering her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. You must’ve had your own reasons for hiding that. I should’ve known you’d lie if it was safe enough. It’s just, it’s so hard to tell what’s real now.”

Nayoung played with Jieqiong’s fingers as the girl plowed through her apology. When she was done, her oxygen well spent, Nayoung raised her right hand and brushed her fingers over Jieqiong’s cheek. She pressed lightly, willing Jieqiong to face her before speaking. “You need to understand. Understand that I would never and will never blame you for anything. I _will_ protect you, no matter the cost. You will survive this impending war. I’ll make sure of it.”

The underlying huskiness of Nayoung’s voice comforted Jieqiong as she heard the spiel once again. How it was them against the world and the world seemed to be a very dark place, so to speak. After a moment, a light flickered on in Jieqiong’s head. She realized Nayoung said “you will survive” instead of “we will survive,” as she usually would. Her stomach plummeted. There was a void swallowing her from within.

“What do you mean—” Jieqiong choked up, unable to continue. She gave Nayoung a piercing, almost accusatory look, appalled that separating for whatever reason was even considered an option. Then, Jieqiong saw something she didn’t know was possible. There was a glint lasting a mere millisecond, but it was real. Fear flashed in Nayoung’s dull eyes. “What did Yaxley tell you? Where did you go the last week before the Christmas holidays instead of attending classes?” Jieqiong held her breath, bracing herself for an answer she’d despise.

Nayoung shifted uncomfortably and winced, the friction irritating an injury Jieqiong supposed the girl had sustained during her absence. Jieqiong unconsciously gripped Nayoung’s hand harder, afraid the girl would somehow disappear into smoke.

“What mission did you go on?” Jieqiong asked again shakily. Nayoung bit her lip, almost breaking skin. Jieqiong had a gut feeling Nayoung hadn’t planned on telling her this soon. Perhaps she hadn’t planned on mentioning it at all. It should’ve hurt, but Jieqiong could only pity Nayoung. How much safer did she think she’d keep them by letting this secret fester?

“He wanted us to go to Kenmare,” Nayoung muttered through gritted teeth. “Said he needed recruitments.”

“Recruitments?” Jieqiong spat. “Honestly, I know our families are supposed to show support, but are they really relying on _students_ to carry out their dirty work now?” It was absurd. Absolutely ludicrous. But Nayoung didn’t even crack a smile. A wave of dread washed over Jieqiong. “They… they are?”

Nayoung nodded gravely. “It’s to show just how deep the Dark Lord’s influence runs. He has whole Pureblood families at his fingertips, even down to the children to do his bidding. His goal is immortality and everlasting power. Members of his inner circle were either imprisoned, killed, or escaped with their tails between their legs. Despite living comfortably until now, only a fraction had children. What families among his followers there are, they’re handing over the next generation as tribute. Out there he’s building an army, but right here he’s _raising_ one. Why do you think we moved here? Why aren’t we learning magic back home?”

Jieqiong watched in silence as Nayoung seemed to struggle with her memories, fresh and dreadful, brought up by the rationalizations she’d laid out for Jieqiong. Another of many demons gnawing at her sanity. Nayoung’s arm twitched and she winced in pain. Jieqiong didn’t believe the hasty grumblings that followed. She was always keen on Nayoung’s quirks. Nayoung could play mental games all day and not bat an eye. But a physical wound? Nayoung’s grimace was too easy of a tell, distinct from her usual scowl in Jieqiong’s eye.

Before Nayoung could stop her, Jieqiong had gripped Nayoung’s fingers tighter than ever, her nails digging into Nayoung’s knuckles. Gingerly, she pulled back the left sleeve of Nayoung’s robes and gasped. Her jaw dropped. She shook her head, refusing to believe her eyes. She lightly brushed her finger over the scarred flecks of flesh, careful not to press where the great black snake slithered out of the defined bony jaws. Her breathing was shallow as she traced the terrible image. “The Dark Mark,” she mumbled with trepidation as if mentioning it would call their master to that very passage in the Dungeons.

Nayoung glowered at the brand marring her once bare skin. “Everyone knows we stick together. But I refused to let Yaxley initiate you. So I went alone. I won’t have you bound to the Death Eaters if I can help it.”

If Jieqiong felt mortified before, it was nothing compared to now. Her insides seemed to have fused into one giant throbbing mass. Fresh tears burned in her eyes and her head ached. She inspected the Mark with disdain. She felt nothing but the utmost sympathy for Nayoung. She wished there was a way to ease the burden. Nayoung had done something most terrible and unspeakable to earn the Dark Mark. Jieqiong could see Nayoung would give just about anything to have it wiped away.

~|~|~|~

Alone. Completely alone. It wasn’t painful like she expected, but mind-numbing and draining. It didn’t matter how many candles she burned. There was no light and no warmth. There was no familiarity. There was no escape and no refuge.

Was it the same outside? Past the stone walls, past the the wrought iron gates with winged boars and slithering chains, past the Dementors and Death Eaters sweeping over the Grounds and the sky, past the Forbidden Forest where perhaps a horrible fate wasn’t so horrible in these times. She shook her head. There was no light anywhere. There was just darkness and those who thrived in it, or those who perished. She genuinely wondered which she pertained to.

The halls felt empty. They lacked joy and laughter, joke shop merchandise and spells cast with reckless abandon. They were void of happiness. But it was all in her mind. The people around her grinned with sadistic pleasure. They embraced magic with purpose and fervor. They cackled into the night and egged each other on. It was their time to shine. It was their time to rule.

No letters for a month and not even a visit during the winter holidays. But a single jade pebble lay on the corner of her desk. A clock far off in the common room struck midnight. She glanced at the smooth stone. Right on cue, it flashed once like a twinkling star. That was enough for her, for now. She leaned back in her chair, the wood squeaking beneath the uneven weight. Had Nayoung been sent on a mission? Was she visiting her father? Perhaps she had been promoted, awaiting the addition of another foul insignia to preach her allegiance while shielding her heart. Were there any uprisings? Rebellions? There was no way to tell. Everything was censored, preened and pruned down to the facts she once knew, but no longer believed. And what of Eunwoo? Was she warm? Was she safe? Was she at home? Was she on the run? Was she… No. That wasn’t an option. She’s strong. She’s smart. She’s intuitive. She knew how to live without magic and how to fight wielding it. She’d survive. And yet… If only there was a second jade pebble on the desk. A sign of some sort.

Jieqiong stretched out her arms. Her stiff elbow joints popped loudly. A large, crisp newspaper crumpled onto the floor by her bed. She reached down, skimmed through the caption, and screwed up her face. A green skull glimmered above a house in Kent on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ as she stuffed it in an empty drawer. No, anything but that sign.

The curtains she had hung around her desk at the beginning of the year were swept aside unceremoniously. She didn’t flinch, but hummed warily at the intruder. “Are we out of water? You could cast a Refilling Charm, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” the girl snapped. Jieqiong could feel Pansy glaring daggers at the back of her skull. “What are you doing up so late?”

“That’s really none of your business.” There was no desire to be rude. It was a true statement. Jieqiong’s voice was dull and laced with exhaustion. Her eyes felt dry from reading by firelight for the past six hours, holed up in her dormitory with nothing but the scratching of her quill on fresh parchment and the torrential rain thundering against the window to keep her company.

Pansy clicked her tongue in annoyance. The curtains flew back into place with a _swoosh_ as her words faded. “Weird loser, reading blank books all night…”

Jieqiong sighed and examined the six levitating scrolls at eye level. Parchment was spread out in front of her, her quill resting in a silver ink bottle. Snipped ribbons and frayed string littered the wooden surface, spilling over the edge into the crevice between her desk and her bed. Paragraphs of fine print looked like solid blocks of black from afar. Jieqiong blinked rapidly as the words began to merge. She sometimes forgot the only writing the other girls could see was the small pile of homework pushed up against the wall, completed immediately after class. She always held education in high esteem, but nowadays it was more about how much suffering you could submit in writing with a smile. The Carrows praised such work. Professor McGonagall was less lenient, as was Jieqiong’s father. He sent her off at King’s Cross Station in September with half a trunk full of correspondence records and archived ledgers. She went home for Christmas with her own compilations and returned to Hogwarts with contracts, some of which were currently in discussion. Everything was signed by her and her parents then charmed by her mother in order to protect all sensitive information. Jieqiong would be graduating in a few short months so they felt it was high time she learned the trade.

Only that was the problem, wasn’t it? Banking everything on the Dark Lord’s success. Was it even worth it? Should he defeat some missing seventeen-year-old, Jieqiong would someday run a global trade network in support of his regime. Nayoung would command an army in his name. And their friends… Their friends simply couldn’t _be_ in such a world. They’re barely surviving in this one. But if the Dark Lord failed, if he withered away into long lost tales, what then? How much longer would they have to pretend, waiting for some other power-hungry murderer to rise? It pained Jieqiong to bend to reality, but it’s what she promised Nayoung. 

~|~|~|~

“But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!”

Jieqiong was speechless. The three houses before them rose to their feet as one. The students brandished their wands, all while scowling at Pansy. Before Jieqiong knew it, the Slytherins were shunted out of the Great Hall. People shoved her from behind and backed into her as they followed Filch to the evacuation point.

Everything happened so fast. She felt like throwing up. She couldn’t process anything. The Dark Lord announced a ransom and called for their surrender, claiming he did not wish to spill magical blood. The Chosen One was in fact alive and standing in that hall some three floors below. The air was charged with emotion as everyone prepared for a battle she sorely wished she dreamt. Then her father’s voice sliced through her swarming thoughts. All that he had entrusted to her with his business was sitting in her dormitory deep in the Dungeons. She, a witch of age born from power and inheriting a legacy, was fleeing from school instead of going after the key to her future. One that made her gag and crushed her lungs, but it was a future.

Cries of rage bounced off the walls and ceilings. Jieqiong turned to look over the heads of some Second-Years. The tail end of the Slytherins began brawling with the oncoming group of Ravenclaws. She pressed on for an escape but the other Slytherins pushed back against her much to Filch’s chagrin. Someone stepped on her robes, another elbowed her, then a wand jabbed her in the side. An excruciating shock racked her body. Something splintered beneath her flesh. She was knocked onto the ground and trampled on as the fight escalated. With bruised ribs and a throbbing head, Jieqiong lurched forward on her hands and knees. She swiped her wand off the floor just as a foot stomped down. With all the strength she could muster, she crawled into a vacant room and slammed the door shut.

Jieqiong leaned against the wall. Her entire body ached. Unable to speak, she casted a spell nonverbally. The light from her wand shook violently as she pushed aside her robes and gingerly lifted the hem of her shirt. She hissed at the grotesque purple splotches marring her skin. Every breath stung and made her eyes water. Her wand clattered to the floor, the dense night swallowing its light. She grunted in an effort to remain conscious.

Was this how she’d meet her end? Groveling on the ground in a dusty deserted classroom. She scoffed, then regretted it as she crumpled over from the pain. Her cheek scraped against the rough stone floor yet the coolness was oddly comforting. Her vision began to fade as did the chaos outside the door. Soon, the raid would begin. Death Eaters and vengeful followers alike would rush into the castle. They’d blast every brick and incinerate every thread. They’d find her squirming under the rubble and cast the Killing Curse without hesitation. She could only hope it would be that painless. She didn’t fancy the other ways to go out — mauled by a rogue werewolf, eaten by a giant, or receiving a Dementor’s Kiss. The world was just a cruel, long-winded joke. Everything she had done, or not done, amounted to nothing. All that had plagued her mind for years, the fear, the pretenses while she crumbled inside. Was it all for naught?

Jieqiong coughed and gasped. The room slanted this way and that despite her head remaining flat on the ground. Through the darkness, she glimpsed a puddle of shining red. She licked her lips and tasted iron. Blood dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. The pain was indistinguishable. She wondered listlessly just how damaged she was — outside, inside, _inside_. She realized it didn’t matter as her energy flooded out of her. There wasn’t time to care.

If only she could see her smile. It wasn’t blinding like the sun nor breathtaking like the Scottish mountains, but it brought comfort and safety. It meant things were going to be alright. It meant they would surge forth and emerge victorious, together. Nayoung’s smile simply felt like home. Then another face drifted to the forefront of her mind. That melodious giggle and those bright, sharp eyes. Her hair fell in sleek waves with the warm scent of apples and roses.

The clocktower tolled and the battle commenced. Jieqiong gasped into the void with a smile, her nose scrunching up as she closed her eyes in resignation. “Could you sing for me tonight?”

As the last bit of strength left her body, she heard a faint whisper. “I will if you stay with me.”

~|~|~|~

Everything was cold and slimy. Something smooth glided over her skin. Her robes drifted around her, yet they grew heavier with every motion. Slowly, Jieqiong opened her eyes and saw nothing but a murky, black expanse beyond a strange sheen. There was nothing to provide a sensory overload, but all of the minuscule details began catching up. She wasn’t standing upright on solid ground nor was she lying flat on her stomach. Gone was the abandoned classroom with vandalized desks and rough stone walls.

She reached for her stomach to check her wound. More surprising than the absence of searing pain was the slowness of her movements. Her arm pushed against some unseen force and when relaxed, it drifted eerily in front of her, supported by that same force pressing from every direction. Unable to rationalize anything, she reached up to soothe the pounding in the back of her skull. Her hand pushed upward only to be blocked by a barrier. Irritated and confused, she yelled into the open. Her ears rang when her voice was amplified back at her.

Something moved to her left. Jieqiong tried to walk closer but remained floating in place. Out of a great surge of bubbles came a body tumbling into suspension. She squinted hard through the darkness. Her eyes widened upon recognizing a brilliantly contrasting head of golden hair. Eunwoo spun around and locating Jieqiong, grabbed onto her arms. Jieqiong furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Eunwoo’s face was oddly contorted, stretched and zoomed by the curious dome on her head. It looked like an upside-down fishbowl, or like the Bubble-Head Charm they used to pass through the corridors polluted by Stink Pellets and Dungbombs.

Eunwoo’s grip on Jieqiong’s arms tightened. Jieqiong shook her head. “I can’t hear you.” Eunwoo looked frustrated, then her eyes widened and her mouth opened as if she was yelling. Jieqiong tried to read her lips. “Be… hind… you?”

Eunwoo tugged at the pocket of her hooded sweater and pulled out Jieqiong’s wand. She pointed it over Jieqiong’s shoulder and shouted something inaudible. Jieqiong craned her neck in time to see a steaming pressurized jet shoot at a target some ten feet away. As the bubbles cleared, she gaped at the lone Grindylow. Its sharp jaws snapped angrily at the two girls and its scalded skin peeled away. It retreated into the tangled field of kelp below.

Jieqiong turned back to Eunwoo and tried to shake her shoulders. “We’re in the lake?!” She gasped, forgetting Eunwoo couldn’t hear her. Eunwoo seemed to understand as she nodded and pointed up. It was difficult to make out, but what Jieqiong assumed to be the surface of the water glowed a tad brighter than their surroundings. She felt Eunwoo clasp their hands leaving no water between their palms. She kicked hard and propelled them up, Jieqiong following along. Her muscles burned. The water pushed against them, but the approaching light gave them hope. They pressed on, each stroke met with less resistance.

They finally broke through the surface gasping instinctually and unnecessarily. Their oxygenated bubbles popped upon contact with air. Jieqiong breathed in deeply. She barely noticed the smell of singed grass. She only saw the girl floating in front of her, drenched to the bone and grinning back widely, her tears mixing with droplets of freshwater. Eunwoo wrapped her arms around Jieqiong’s neck and tugged her close. Their clothes squelched from the pressure. Jieqiong wrapped her arms around Eunwoo’s submerged waist. Her head fell on Eunwoo’s shoulder and she naturally tucked her nose into Eunwoo’s cold neck. The girl’s familiar calming scent was still apparent despite the stench of marshlands.

Their reunion was short lived as a pained cry ripped through the night. Eunwoo’s body was wrenched from her arms. Jieqiong struggled to remain afloat as she watched Eunwoo flail madly across the water. Her limbs were bonded by thick tendrils of rope. Her skin turned red and the ropes tightened the more she tried to break free. Jieqiong kicked her way to the shore, peeling off her robes to move faster. She splashed onto land and picked up her discarded wand with a chunk of sand. She rushed to Eunwoo’s side to help her.

Eunwoo gasped through chattering teeth. “Shield Charm!”

Without question Jieqiong shouted, “Protego!” A barrier shot out of her wand just as a flaming red curse hurtled through the darkness. It burst into a storm of embers. The spell rebounding off the magical shield illuminated more than a dozen figures emerging from the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. Jieqiong’s blood ran cold when she recognized the man at the forefront. His wand was the source of the ropes restraining Eunwoo. He flicked his wrist up and the ropes recoiled, the friction slicing into Eunwoo’s skin. She hissed as the cuts oozed bright red and mixed with the lake water and sandy grit. Jieqiong’s heart shredded to pieces at the sight.

Panic set in and her breathing grew shallow. She held Eunwoo’s pale face and wondered how the girl could possibly smile when she was bleeding out. Jieqiong hadn’t heard herself mumbling “Don’t” over and over.

Eunwoo shook her head weakly, hushing Jieqiong’s whimpers. “It’s okay to be lost. The world’s a funny thing, pushing you back and forth. It’s okay to be swept up in the waves.”

It should’ve been nonsense, a sign that Eunwoo was losing her grip on reality. Yet it made perfect sense to Jieqiong. A slow burn inched up her throat and down her lungs as countless outcomes flashed before her eyes. It hurt so much yet it felt relieving to relinquish control. Trapped in the middle, drawn by both sides that repelled each other, it felt like breathing water. This time she wasn’t alone. This time Eunwoo was with her, breathing water without qualms. Jieqiong looked down at the girl in her arms and decided Eunwoo deserved to breathe air. Jieqiong pushed herself up and stood in front of Eunwoo defensively. Her wand arm shook with rage.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The man’s voice was sharp and laced with disgust.

“Don’t touch her,” Jieqiong growled back.

“Why are you defending her? Standing alongside filth. A living mistake of Wizarding kind.”

“Don’t call her that!” Jieqiong screeched, her voice echoing through the trees.

The hidden wizards and witches cackled but were silenced immediately with a twitch of the man’s head. He glared daggers at Jieqiong. “I’ll call her what she is. You! Do not care for such vermin. Have I taught you nothing? Why are you washed up on a shore like some sewer rat instead of fighting with your allies at the castle? Why aren’t you standing next to _me_ threatening _that_ Muggle-bred scum?” He jabbed his wand at Eunwoo’s head, but Jieqiong blocked the spell. A shower of dirt rained down on them.

Jieqiong shook off the weeds and soil. Her voice was low and steady. “Seventeen years and you only ask me that now?”

“How dare you speak to me like that, you ungrateful—”

“My whole life you praised me for being afraid! You smiled and bragged all the while I wondered who would kill me first. An Auror chasing after Death Eaters? A Death Eater who thought I was dispensable? Maybe the Dark Lord himself the moment I screw up? I lived in fear because of your greed and ignorance!”

“I brought you under the wing of the greatest force of our times for your future!”

“It’s _your_ future you care about! A world full of Purebloods beating down the masses.”

“It’s a world in which you would rise and dominate! A superior world where you belong!”

“It’s a world in which I would suffer, just as I have been.” Jieqiong watched as he bared his teeth. Words bubbled up in his throat, but he remained silent. “I never agreed with your ideals. I never supported blood status. But you trained me in your work and sold me to the Dark Lord. I hated myself for it all but I did it anyway because you’re my father and I trusted you.”

The tension was thick and weighed heavily on Jieqiong’s shoulders. Their eyes were locked, a fierceness emanating from the shore. Jieqiong’s father straightened up, his expression blank. He said clearly for all to hear, “You are no daughter of mine.”

He raised his wand and signaled the others to capture the girls. A green flare exploded from his wand and encircled Jieqiong and Eunwoo. It burned a ring around them, cutting off all escape routes. Four curses shot towards Jieqiong, but she deflected them by a hair’s breadth. The bushes by the shore withered to ashes on contact with the spells. The ring closed in. Jieqiong crouched to pick Eunwoo up. Clouds of fumes billowed up and spread to the edge of the forest. With another wave of her wand, Jieqiong deflected two more curses. She levitated a witch who tried to disarm her. A flurry of leaves engulfed a pair of wizards circling from behind. Another three sent red sparks her way but Jieqiong cut them off with a torrential jet of water. It weaved through the encroaching supporters and picked them off one by one, dumping them into the center of the lake.

Six witches and wizards glided forward as if born from the smoke itself, Jieqiong’s father in the lead and unperturbed by the loss of his men. Silently, they raised their wands in unison. Five seconds at a standstill. Five whole seconds of bartered peace. Five seconds in which one hoped for reflection and the other retribution. Five seconds that Jieqiong was petrified yet fully aware of her inaction. She thought perhaps she was meant to breathe water all along as pain shocked her nerves and she writhed on the ground in unbearable agony. She thought perhaps she wasn’t strong enough to protect Eunwoo as her body dropped to the ground. She thought perhaps if she was a bit more fearful like Nayoung always advised, everyone she loved would be breathing.

The pain fizzled out abruptly. Jieqiong felt the spines prickling her blood from within melt away and her body began to heal itself. Kneeling before her was her father, his eyes unfocused and empty. He was lifted high into the air with three limp bodies flanking either side of him across the shore like a line of marionettes. The smoke warped into hundreds of hands, claws, and talons. They ensnared the Dark Lord’s followers and swallowed them whole. Jieqiong stared hard, memorizing the last spectral image of her father as he faded out of sight.

She didn’t hear the damp sand crunching beneath someone’s feet. She didn’t feel the hand on her shoulder. She didn’t see the shadow swooping down on Eunwoo. She did feel like she was hurtled through space and squeezed through a tube, the sky crushing her lungs into nonexistence. She felt her back hit the hardwood floor. She heard the table squeak as she tumbled into its leg. She heard a crackling fire and best of all, she heard Eunwoo’s shallow breaths in her ear.

“Can you stand?”

Jieqiong flinched at the voice, so close and calm yet authoritative. She rolled over to search for the source when pain shot through her body. She groaned and curled into a ball which did nothing to soothe it. A hand rubbed her back comfortingly.

“What happened? Where are you injured?”

Jieqiong blinked away her burning tears. She recognized the blurred outline of an old schoolmate, a tall Ravenclaw who was kind and compassionate. More importantly it was someone she could trust. She reached out and tugged at the girl’s sleeves. “Eunwoo.”

The girl combed through Jieqiong’s hair, calming her nerves immediately. “I need your help to heal her so I need to heal you first.” Jieqiong clutched her side and held back her whimpers, but didn’t object. The girl lifted Jieqiong’s shirt with featherlight touches. She gasped at the web of purple and black creeping up Jieqiong’s torso. Jieqiong moaned as the cool wood of a wand tip ghosted over her bruise. “You have a broken rib. Bear with me for a second.”

A purple solution sprayed out of the wand and soaked in. The towel Jieqiong was given to bite down on muffled her cry. It felt like her flesh was bubbling on contact with hot oil. She grunted when her rib snapped into place. She and the girl sighed in relief as a cool sensation washed over her side. The internal wound had cleared up, leaving bare smooth skin.

“Thanks, Minkyung.” The name felt foreign on her tongue. Yet the older girl’s gaze was nothing but welcoming and motherly.

Minkyung pulled Jieqiong to her feet. “Eunwoo told me you sometimes use a different kind of magic than we do. Looking at her fresh scars, we’ll need your expertise.” Unlike her words, her voice concealed none of her shock. Eunwoo’s wounds were still running.

Jieqiong swallowed hard at the haunting complexion of her best friend. She and Minkyung hoisted Eunwoo onto a bed by the fire while she explained rapidly. “Not a different kind, but a different process. Western magic focuses on direct actions. Spells and incantations and wand movements, all specific to one task. I grew up learning how to harness my energy and control its behavior.”

“Like for healing?” Jieqiong nodded wordlessly. Minkyung took it as a sign to give her space.

Jieqiong forced aside every daunting thought of the night’s events. Eunwoo needed her to be focused. With a calming breath, her hands stilled, giving her confidence. She closed her eyes and envisioned a lush field. Every blade of grass glowed healthily in the unfiltered sunlight. In the distance was a tree fit for a shelter. In her youth she would hide away in its hollowed trunk and read about the glorious world beyond. She’d marvel at the spiraling bark, its branches stretching towards the sky, its thick roots burrowing into the rich soil. Jieqiong imagined the gentle flow of sap running through the tree’s veins. She embraced the warmth that shrouded her body. Placing one hand on either side of Eunwoo’s neck, she allowed her energy to absorb into the icy flesh. The vitality of the earth and the purity of life. It all flowed into Eunwoo.

Minkyung’s eyes widened in amazement. Blood no longer streamed out of Eunwoo’s wounds. The cuts along her arms and shins mended cleanly. The color flooded back into her face. Her chest rose with steady, audible breaths. “My God. It’s working,” Minkyung whispered.

“Jie…”

“I’m right here,” said Jieqiong. She leaned down and pressed her lips to Eunwoo’s clammy forehead. Her palms continued to radiate energy until she was sure no scars were visible. She hiccuped as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

Minkyung placed a hand on Jieqiong’s shoulder. “Here’s a Blood-Replenishing Potion.” Jieqiong popped the cork out and held it up to Eunwoo’s chapped lips. Eunwoo swallowed it with difficulty. She took labored breaths between sips until the flask was dry.

Everything settled down and the cabin grew quiet. The peace was much appreciated. Jieqiong rubbed circles on the back of Eunwoo’s hand while her eyes glossed over the silhouette of Minkyung making tea at the stove. It had been a full year since she saw either witch. Minkyung graduated in the nick of time. Eunwoo must’ve gotten wind of the purist policies enforced at the start of term, forbidding Muggle-borns from attending Hogwarts. She hadn’t shown up at the gates to be detained and interrogated. Jieqiong was thankful Eunwoo was safe and alive with Minkyung.

With burgeoning questions about how the world moved on outside of school, Jieqiong broke the silence. “How did you two escape?”

Minkyung set three steaming mugs on the small table. They helped Eunwoo into a sitting position before she took up a chair across from Jieqiong. “For starters, we’re no longer in Britain.” She laughed as Jieqiong froze, then peered out the window. “We’re in the Pyrenees Mountains closer to Spain’s border. I had the foresight to build a small cottage as things escalated last year. As soon as I left Hogwarts, I moved here.”

Eunwoo sniffed the aromatic leaves bobbing in her mug. “And I definitely couldn’t go back. I didn’t really have a plan. When I heard the Ministry had fallen, I panicked. The Trace was gone but I didn’t dare use magic. I thought as long as I didn’t draw attention to myself, my family would be safe. We were fine for a few months, then I ran into a few Snatchers. They didn’t do anything to me,” Eunwoo said hastily. “They didn’t have the chance. They snapped my wand on the spot, but someone showed up and chased them off.”

“An Auror?” Jieqiong asked.

“More like a Brigadier General,” Minkyung smirked.

“Nayoung.” The name seemed to cleanse Jieqiong’s spirit.

“She showed up on my doorstep, which being in the mountains is highly suspicious. I don’t expect many visitors,” Minkyung grinned. “Next thing I knew, I was serving stew to the Jungs and a military commander.”

“Minkyung was incredibly welcoming. She helped us settle down. My parents and I live in a house on the other side of the river, complete with concealment charms.”

Jieqiong wrapped her hands around her mug and let it all sink in. “If you two have been living here, how did you find me? I could’ve been anywhere in the castle. How did you know Hogwarts was under siege? How did you even get inside undetected?”

The meaningful look shared between the two was not lost on Jieqiong. Eunwoo reached into her pocket and slid something to the center of the table. The firelight danced across the smooth surface of the pebble. The natural jade green and snowy white swirled beautifully. Jieqiong rolled the precious stone between her fingers.

“Nayoung gave it to me. She said to hold it at midnight and think about where I am, about how my family is safe and Minkyung is caring for us. She said to never miss a day. So I listened. And tonight, I heard you ask me to sing for you. I knew I had to find you. You sounded so weak.”

“Eunwoo came banging on my door just after midnight. I told her we couldn’t go blazing through the front doors with one wand and Death Eaters crawling about. The last I heard, they took over Hogsmeade too. So I Apparated us to the Forbidden Forest just across the lake. We didn’t know Hogwarts was under attack until we got there.”

“I remembered Moaning Myrtle, you know that ghost haunting the girl’s lavatory on the first floor. She went on and on about the U-bends and how she ended up in the lake after someone flushed her toilet. I thought if I could blast into the larger pipes, I could sneak into the castle.”

“Fortunate for us, there was a lone Snatcher scouting the shoreline. Pretty dim, the lot of them are. They’re only interested in capturing Muggle-borns for gold. I stunned him and Eunwoo took his wand. She dove right into the lake while I kept a watch out for her return. What I didn’t expect was a whole band of followers searching the forest. As soon as I felt something was off, I Apparated further away. I saw you two emerge from the water just after. About ten wizards and witches got to the bank before I could warn you.”

Jieqiong furrowed her eyebrows. “If you weren’t there, then you didn’t bewitch the smoke.”

Minkyung shook her head. “That was like something out of a horror movie. Hands pulling people into the void. No, I Disapparated us after it ate all… those… Death Eaters…” Eunwoo shot a warning glance at Minkyung. Her voice trailed off apologetically.

“It’s fine,” said Jieqiong as she stared at her lukewarm tea. “It did what I couldn’t.”

Eunwoo wrapped her hands around Jieqiong’s. “I know what you’re thinking. Listen to me. You are not a coward.”

“They threatened us. They were attacking us. And I just let him.”

“You stood there in front of me, protecting me. That alone took every bit of courage. He was still your father. Yet you didn’t leave me behind.”

“I would never,” Jieqiong replied immediately.

“Exactly. You could’ve caved and gone with him. You could’ve ran. But you didn’t. He made his choices and you stood by yours. You chose to stay with me and you refused to fight him. Being in that position, being weighed down like that. You’re an honorable witch,” sighed Eunwoo.

“Nayoung would’ve been proud,” added Minkyung.

Jieqiong held back her tears with a small grateful smile. “Where is she anyway?” Dread washed over her as Eunwoo bit her lip nervously. She turned to Minkyung. “Please. Is she safe?”

“The last time she came here, she said she was throwing a coup.” Minkyung took a deep breath. Her voice cracked when she spoke. “That was four months ago.”


End file.
